Sister-in-law of the Heroine in a Childcare Novel - Chapter 10

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 10

“So what is it you want?”
Raymond fell silent for a moment at the question posed to him, as though caught off guard.
“You’re asking my preference, Your Grace?”
The Duke of Castrain nodded slowly, exhaling a plume of cigar smoke.
Orto Cassian El Castrain.
The Magic Beast Slayer.
The strongest man on the continent.
The head of the Castrain Ducal House.
The bearer of all those titles was a man with the weathered, faded appearance of an aging tiger.
Hair that had once been black was now gray as ash, and a scar ran vertically across his left eye, impossible to miss.
“You actually went to the mine yourself to confirm that the Gloriana’s Banner truly exists—before even reporting it to me.”
It was likely panic that had driven you to do it. After all, if you reported it to the Duke and it turned out to be a lie, that would be ruinous. Yet the matter was far too crucial to be handled as a mere after-report.
Especially when such information came from the mouth of the Princess, a girl famous until now as a fool and an imbecile. It was almost impossible to believe.
“Why? Afraid your reckless betrothed was lying? You think I would be angry? No—no one grows angry at a doll strung up by the threads of adults, dancing at their whim.”
At those words, Raymond’s brow hardened.
“If I misjudged the situation…”
“Are you feeling guilty? That you avoided someone you believed would become a useless stone, or worse—a chain to shackle your ankles if you pitied them wrongly? That perhaps she wasn’t what you thought?”
Raymond hesitated for just a moment.
“…I feel no guilt, Your Grace. It was a sound decision for the family.”
“The Bradley Earl Family serves as the Emperor’s lapdog. The abandoned mine may be worthless, but one careless move—giving them even a pretext—could spell disaster.”
“My recklessness was unforgivable, Your Grace.”
The Duke of Castrain observed his eldest son with an unreadable gaze.
The Duke did not consider himself a good man, even in flattery.
If one could be saved at the cost of a hundred, he would sacrifice one.
If a thousand could be saved at the cost of a hundred, he would sacrifice a hundred.
On the battlefield, you protected your own and eliminated enemies with minimal loss. Sometimes that meant ending the life of a comrade too grievously wounded—with your own hands.
He had thought he did not wish to pass such a life to his heir. Yet reality was too heavy to escape.
Raymond was the son who bore that burden of reality more heavily than any other. Because of it, he rarely let his gaze wander elsewhere.
Despite his betrothal—arranged almost in the womb—the daughters of noble families who understood the situation continued to approach Raymond, to tempt him. Yet he had never wavered, not once.
‘I did wonder, when I heard the Orland Earl’s eldest daughter was so clever, whether it might become a fortunate connection after all.’
Even after the first dance at the Ball with a beautiful, clever, and sharp-witted maiden, Raymond’s demeanor remained as stone.
At the time, he had assumed the young man simply had no interest in women, or that being betrothed to another made him disinclined to pursue someone else.
Yet seeing his expression now…
“Yes, people change slowly. Especially those raised in captivity, like a bird in a cage. But…”
The Duke thought of his second son Lisianthus, who had made such a fuss over whether the Gloriana’s Banner was real, and of Bibi, whose eyes had gone wide with astonishment.
The reactions of everyone who heard of Raymond’s transaction with Titania were all the same.
‘That Princess—the one who came back from the dead—has she gone mad?’
‘Could the Empress be scheming in some other way?’
‘If the Empress knew about the Gloriana’s Banner, wouldn’t she have simply handed it over to us?’
‘Since she’s so fond of the Young Duke, maybe she’s coming at him differently. Some ploy of the Emperor’s?’
Because what she had asked for was truly trivial, and because they genuinely needed the Gloriana’s Banner.
They intended to pay the price of the transaction.
Only…
“The Princess Titania looks quite different through your eyes.”
“…”
He is wavering.
If the Duke of Castrain were to tell him now that this was all shallow scheming, that someone must stand behind the Princess, and to ignore it—Raymond would listen. He would suppress that wavering, pretend ignorance of his own feelings, and forget.
But…
“…I’ll give you a chance to see where this leads.”
In Raymond’s clear golden eyes, relief bloomed like light spreading across water.
Watching that, the Duke of Castrain closed his eyes.
‘I love you, but this is my duty.’
His late wife had spoken those words to him before she died.
Supporting an empire in place of an incompetent and irresponsible Imperial Family was always a grueling task. One had to sacrifice even what one desired most.
So the Duke had hoped that Raymond, who would succeed him, might choose someone safe.
A choice everyone would bless, even in marriage. Someone he would not need to abandon, someone who would require no sacrifice to bear.
The daughter of the Imperial Family—an enemy in all but name—was among the worst possible choices.
Raymond could not fail to understand that.
‘…Yet he looks reassured.’
The Castrain Family neither forgets kindness nor enmity. How then could one abandon an lingering attachment that had begun to settle in one’s chest like sediment?
The Duke resolved to wait and see.

* * *

Empress Cleo was swift in her actions.
So swift that the very next day after leaving me stammering and frozen in my chambers, she sent both a Priest and a sword to the palace.
It was certainly welcome to live in a healthy, comfortable body rather than languishing like an invalid in the thick summer heat, but still…
“Hey, they’re saying you nearly died and went completely insane, is that true?”
“…”
…the problem was that swift action belonged not only to Empress Cleo.
I swept my gaze across the Reception Room, which had become as bright, beautiful, and tasteful as if my recent destruction had never happened.
After I had caused two consecutive scenes, and after Empress Cleo had come and gone, the maidservants had become outwardly obedient to me.
My head lady’s maid Natalie maintained her same manner as before.
That is to say, without a single word of complaint, they had quietly restored the Reception Room—with beautiful flowers in crystal vases (though notably absent were Roses, after I’d so memorably wielded them as a weapon last time), lace-trimmed tablecloths, and lovely furnishings.
A tray laden with donuts dripping with chocolate—far more generously applied than usual—and raisin scones, as if to say “eat something sweet and calm down.”
A breeze drifting softly through the open windows…
The weather really is beautiful. Right. No need to fix my attention on that bomb in front of me—or rather, that red waste product.
I naturally turned my gaze toward the window.
Oh, look—there are two beautiful orioles outside.
They flutter about so charmingly, male and female, keeping each other company. Meanwhile, this lonely body of mine…
“Hey, can’t you hear me? Your ears stuffed up along with your brain when you went mad?”
To leave with him…
“Or if you have eyes at all, you should be able to see this.”
Whoosh! From the sword blade, a hot surge of flame coalesced and rose like a pillar. I shrieked in horror.
“…What the hell, you maniac! Are you in your right mind?! Fire Magic indoors?!”
“Oh, now you’re looking this way.”
My opponent extinguished the flames with a wave and grinned, baring his teeth.
Brilliant red hair like flame itself, eyes the same vivid color. White skin of a northerner, yet with a complexion unusually ruddy and vital.
Even in the height of summer, despite coming to the palace in an ostensible formal capacity, he slouched in a half-sleeved shirt and dirt-stained, disheveled trousers—his very appearance spoke volumes about his nature.
His nickname: the mad dog of the Castrain Ducal House.
Indeed, what was there to hide?
The second son of the Castrain Family, whom I’d always viewed as a brute happily capable of tearing me to shreds.
Lisianthus Agni El Castrain.
I understand, truly. Compared to his older brother—composed and brimming with responsibility—the second son was relatively freer of such burdens.
His nature burned hot, and he cared little for the opinions of others.
The youngest, Rasper, leaned toward scholarly pursuits, so he couldn’t rein in his older brother (besides, Rasper rarely came to the capital under the excuse of his youth).
The Duke himself rarely intervened in his three sons’ affairs.
And Raymond, whether Titania wept or raged, broke cups or had tantrums before him, paid her no mind. He was too insignificant to be worth anger over such transparent tricks.
But the younger brother, who admired and cherished his older sibling, found Titania’s temperament deeply offensive.
So whenever they met, he would openly provoke her. For example:
‘How dare someone like you presume to become the future mistress of the Castrain Family?’
He’d shatter Titania’s resolve with such brutal facts…
‘Honestly, it would suit my brother far better to have a scarecrow mannequin placed in the training ground instead. At least it wouldn’t speak.’
He’d unleash the very words no one dared utter even in private to a princess—someone of such exalted rank.
‘Your Majesty, Your Majesty! That brute actually dared to question my worth! I am the proud daughter of Your Majesty and the future mistress of the Castrain Family. Why can’t you punish even such a wretch?!’
…Yet even when the past Titania clung to the Emperor’s robes and begged, it had done no good.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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